


O (Un)Holy Night

by stylinourry



Series: Profound Bond (DeanCas) [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Begging Dean, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Christmas, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Riding, SPN Christmas challenge, Top Dean, lowkey hope this is fine, oh look it's my very first smut piece, spn s12, with a bit of Bottom Dean/Top Castiel (frottage and foreplay)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 19:46:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9087574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stylinourry/pseuds/stylinourry
Summary: Dean and Castiel return to the bunker after a Christmas hunter party. They're (sorta) drunk and down for you know what.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first smutty oneshot. Ever. Christmas is my favorite holiday - and apparently, Dean and Cas', too. Hope you like it, & Merry Christmas *•*•*•*

Dean stumbled past the bunker entrance, Cas hot on his heels, and it's a sheer miracle to know that he didn't crash Baby on their way back. His head spins a little.

The Christmas hunter party Charlie invited them to was quite the wild ride, with Dean having been able to convince Cas to drink more peppermint-flavoured Jamaica shots than Dean possibly could. His angel mojo would dissipate alcohol's effects, anyway. Why not let loose?

What Dean never expected was Cas kissing him in front of everyone. Don't get him wrong...Dean had no such qualms about their relationship - he'd shout it to the entire world, but the urgency by which Cas was tugging at his belt loop threw Dean off guard, and most of the party guests (including Sam) wolf-whistled, forming a circle around the escalated level of PDA.

Thankfully, they still had the peace of mind to leave early, Christmas bourbon and spiked eggnog and honey ham beginning to soak into their bones, and Sam encouraged them to "get the hell out of here before you do something stupid. Charlie'll drive me home."

Bless Sam's soul.

          ❄❄❄❄❄            

Cas pushes Dean up, roughly, against the bedroom door, back hitting the wood, and Dean's Santa hat falls to the floor. Tossing away his own hat, Cas' radiant blue eyes survey Dean's body hungrily from head to toe, and jesus, Dean could feel his cock straining; the fabric of his jeans tent. Cas' hand brushes Dean's crotch, drawing out a loud, breathy, shameless moan from him that echoes throughout the empty hallways, and Dean begs.

"Please, Cas _please_ ," he says, Cas pressing raunchy, open-mouthed kisses down Dean's neck. Cas' stubble scrapes his skin and Dean shivers, while Cas places his thigh between Dean's legs, trapping the hunter. His sweaty hands grip Dean's waist tight, tight enough to leave marks, yet Dean doesn't at all care. He's used to it.

Cas slides his torso upwards. Their clothed erections touch, and the simultaneous moans they release over the delicious sensation makes Dean grind into Cas' thigh, his mouth open in choppy gasps. "C-cas, _ah_ -"

Dean yelps as Cas lifts him, effortlessly balancing his weight to open the bedroom door, and he hears Cas growl "Bed", lips sucking on his earlobe; Dean's so horny that he produces the most sinful whines. Cas dumps him onto their bed and wastes no time in stripping him of his ugly Christmas sweater, and Dean thinks he definitely should persuade Cas to drink more often, because _shit_ , his angel taking charge like this was the _hottest_ thing he had ever seen. Dean's enjoyable - but unsatisfactory - trysts with both chicks and dudes were nothing compared to Castiel, and again Dean preens over the fact that he was waiting for him this whole time. He did _eight_ damn years of it.

Cas' clothes are already gone too, Dean repressing a sob at the beautiful vision before him. His built muscles ripple - an enticing portrait of powerful angelic manflesh that Dean thirsts to bite, and he yanks Cas down on top of him, smashing his lips to his.

They've had their fair share of sweet kisses, but this was far, far below chaste. It's dirty and teethy and desperate, Dean poking his tongue into Cas' divine mouth, and they swallow each other's low moans. Hips aligned, Cas' crotch performs a sharp thrust that has Dean mewling, their briefs lending immense friction to his movements, and the angel then frots faster, deep grunts escaping his mouth as he licks a stripe along Dean's exposed neck.

Unashamed, Dean spreads his legs and squeezes Cas' hips with his thighs, letting the angel frot him to oblivion, and Dean is drowning in pleasure, his arms wrapped tight around Cas' shoulders. One particular thrust has Dean's green eyes rolling back into his skull, and he chants: " _Fuck,_ oh yeah, Cas," hyperaware that they were very strung up on alcohol and sexual tension, and he knows he isn't going to last long.

"I'm - I'm gonna come if -  _oh_ ," Dean coos, Cas' hands cupping his asscheeks and ensuring that their clothed cocks collided each time, but Dean gasps his next words over the sound of squeaky bedsprings. "Need you - _inside_ me first."

"Yes," Cas agrees, struggling to separate himself from Dean's warm body. Dean's cock _hurts_ , ridiculously erect and throbbing impatiently, but Cas seems to get the message as he wills their briefs to disappear, and Dean groans at their instant nakedness. Scorching skin is pressed against skin, Dean loving the view of Cas' long, hard, wide member, and he isn't embarrassed that he may be drooling.

"Babe, hurry, _please_ ," Dean pleads, shoving his dick between the grip of his hand and pinching the base to keep himself from coming on the spot. Cas' expression is just as predatory, blue eyes dilated and lovely skin flushed. Cas nods, swiping his thumb across Dean's slit, and pre-come is already beading. " _Jesus_ ," the hunter whines, bucking his hips up.

"It's Christmas Eve and you are impatient, Dean," Cas teases him, breath ghosting under the dip of Dean's balls. "I don't-ugh!" Dean jerks involuntarily. His back arches, consumed by the most painful, pleasurable coil of sensitivity that he has ever felt in his entire life, and although him and Cas did indeed make love every chance they could possibly get, there was something uniquely  _raw_ about tonight.

Maybe it was the excessive holiday cheer.

Dean tugs at Cas' hair, pulling him closer towards his balls because he _needs_ him goddammit, until Dean realizes a second later that the angel had stilled, an ingenious look of wonder decorating his face.

"I have an idea."

 _Poof_!

Dean blinks five times when Cas reappears, bending over him.

He was wearing a Santa robe with his Santa hat, and he was also  _completely_ naked underneath.

Dean 100% understands.

"Holy mother of sin, Cas," the hunter babbles, grabbing his boyfriend, and to Dean's surprise, Cas seats himself onto his lap.

"What're you doing?"

"I discovered this holiday tip online."

"Wh- _fuck_!"

Cas reaches behind him, cutting Dean's many questions short. A croaky groan escapes Dean's throat as Cas wraps his fingers around his neglected dick; it takes a monumental amount of self-control for him not to thrust into the angel's grip, and Dean's hands scratch maniacally at the silken material of Cas' Santa coat.

"Let me," Cas whispers, guiding Dean to his entrance, and if Dean wasn't severely aroused right now, he would have laughed at the lube that coated Cas' index out of thin air.

Cas sticks his lubed index finger into himself, loosening and slicking his bowels before sinking down. The head of Dean's cock pops past the first ring, and Cas' whines compel Dean to groan even louder.

" _YES_ , oh fuck, Cas - that's it, keep going baby," Dean urges him, stroking Cas' hips lovingly underneath his Santa robe, and the angel is breathing hard and shallow, beaded sweat rolling past his temples.

"You were very naughty this year, weren't you, Dean?" Cas says, ocean blue eyes twinkling.

Dean almost screams in pleasure, because Cas talking dirty - as _Santa Claus_ , no less - has fulfilled the hunter's deepest fantasies.

His lips open to reply, all indiscretion and desperation.

"I _am_ naughty! Been naughty since birth - _shit_ \- "

Dean and Cas hiss, the hunter's length soon buried inside Cas to the hilt, and he's still as tight as he was during their first time, Baby's backseat an unwilling witness.

Cas glides his hands along Dean's freckled, golden expanse of firm chest, rocking back and forth. "Yes, that means I may have to punish you."

"Please, Cas, _punish_ me, ungh-" Dean is panting like he's been deprived of air, knocked senseless via Cas' ministrations atop his dick, but the super agonizingly _slow_ movement of the angel's hips is more than Dean can handle.

"I'm sorry, please, I've been a good boy, I - just like that Cas, oh god!" Dean's nerves are frazzled, spine arching. White-hot bliss envelops his body when Cas finally rocks faster, knees bracketing Dean's torso, and he grips the hunter's thighs for leverage. His Santa hat falling off, Cas throws his head back and is lost in the delicious feel of Dean's wet cock sliding in and out of him.

" _Fuck_ babe, so tight, so sexy-" Dean's fingers dig into Cas' hips, leaving surefire purple bruises. They establish a noisy, pornographic rhythm together, and Dean slams upward as succulent heat swallows him, Cas' toned butt hitting his pelvis each time. Dean revels in the incredible vision of Cas' panting open mouth, eyelids shut tight, and the veiny tendons of his neck are exposed.

Sweat drenches the angel's olive skin, and christ, Dean couldn't resist. He sits, lapping at the salty liquid that has pooled in Cas' bellybutton, and he swirls his tongue deep, drinking Cas' sweat like a dying man who found an oasis.

" _Dean_ ," Cas cries, "You - you feel - ah!" Dean reaches for him, skillfully fisting the angel's member alongside his erratic, urgent thrusts as well as he could, and Dean was damn close. "Faster Cas, faster!"

Cas obliges. He rapidly fucks himself forward into Dean's closed fist, then backward onto his length, and the pleasure builds low within Dean's tailbone: a taut string ready to snap from the slightest pressure. "Ohh," they both moan, guttural, luscious grunts reverberating throughout the room. Dean pulls Cas' Santa robe hard as he rides him, expecting the fabric to rip, and unholy slapping sounds of sweaty skin on skin are accompanied by the sharp clack of the headboard against their bedroom wall.

"Uh, fuck yeah, right there -  _yes -_ I'm gonna come!" Dean howls, snapping his hips up. At the blisteringly fast rate Cas is bouncing, it isn't long before colourful sparks erupt behind Dean's lids, and an explosion of endless pleasure assaults his senses.

"G-god, _CAS_!"

Dean contorts, spasming uncontrollably inside the angel, and his mouth is open in a wordless scream, his free hand ripping the right Santa robe sleeve off its seam. Cas milks Dean dry, clenching his anal muscles around him, while flow after flow of white drips out of Cas and coats his full inner thighs; Dean manages to stab Cas' prostate amidst his orgasmic convulsions, and not a second later, Cas roars " _Dean_!", thick, hot ropes spurting onto Dean's fingers, chest, and freckled cherry red cheeks.

They ride their peaks, the high dissipating as Cas moves, carefully now, atop Dean, and oversensitivity is soon forgotten when the angel leans forward to kiss him, capturing his pink lips in a soft, wet union of tongues. Dean gasps, palms running over Cas' outstretched back, and the gentle rake of Dean's nails makes him tremble.

The hunter's face reflecting utmost satisfaction, Cas chuckles, and he presses another kiss to Dean's nose.

"You ruined my Santa coat."

Dean sighs. "Jeez babe, I thought you were gonna thank the Christmas fairies for the mind-blowing sex we just had."

Cas tilts his head, confused.

"There's no such thing as Christmas fairies." 

 "You better get yourself off of me first before we can argue properly about mythological Christmas crap," he quips, kissing Cas' jaw. The hunter then jumps, a ticklish sensation upon his skin fading as quickly as it arrived, and Dean glances between them.

Their pearlescent come, fresh only minutes ago, was gone, glowing skin wiped clean, and Dean huffs in amusement.

"Do you have to use your mojo _every_ time, Cas?" Dean complains, because he intended to lick his angel clean himself, but they weren't normal individuals. It would, in fact, be _abnormal_ for them if they didn't experience any strange setbacks of a sexual nature.

Cas wiggles closer, and Dean wraps an arm around him, pulling Cas into his side and discarding the ripped Santa robe. 

"I personally think it makes the clean-up process easier."

Dean rolls his eyes. Cas is warm: a cuddly bundle of gorgeous awkward angel beneath the mattress covers, and he utters a silent prayer of thanks to no one for allowing them to be together like this, strings unattached. 

"You gotta try adventurous stuff, man. Clean-up mojo isn't always a substitute for my tongue, y'know."

Cas acknowledges him with a nod, smiling softly, and Dean is swimming in sky blue. 

"I'm sorry."

"Nah, I'm sorry I ripped the Santa robe - but that's 'cause your Santa getup was _hot_ ," Dean growls, shifting to nip at Cas' bare shoulder, and the angel flushes, his adoring gaze transfixed on Dean's own. 

"I simply wanted to do something different. And it is Christmas. Humans place great emphasis on pleasing ' _your_ _special someone_ ', so I hoped my plan was ideal. Are you - are you pleased, Dean?"

Dean gauges Cas' expression.

Cas is worried. The angel is actually concerned that Dean may not have appreciated his amazing, merrily sexual gesture, and Dean wants to laugh.

 "Babe, when are you gonna understand that I don't give two shits about what you choose to do for me? You're the best Christmas present I never asked for. Hell, dress up like a mermaid, a Mormon, or, I dunno, Jon Snow and I'll still want you like I want food."

Dean cradles Cas' face, tender and loving and (god, screw Christmas feels) perfect. His angel needed to hear it tonight.

"I'll still be in love with you, Cas."

Dean kisses him.

They kiss passionately, their mouths conveying what their hearts were thankful for, and they kissed like they were going to meld, unite as one; their lips were as close as their bodies, slotting together in the way they were always meant to.

Dean's kissing Cas over and over and over, surfacing only to breathe and then diving headfirst again, and Cas could feel the irrepressible tsunami of Dean Winchester’s love, soaking into his pores.

"Merry Christmas, Cas," Dean exhales, wiping the angel's tears away, and he tucks both of them in, sated and happy. 

"Merry Christmas, Dean," Cas whispers. "I love you."

Placing one final kiss to his angel's collarbone, Dean sleeps, a kaleidoscope of pine trees and spiked eggnog and honey ham and shimmering ultramarine blue eyes the last thing he sees.

❄❄❄❄❄

 

 


End file.
